A Little Something Sexy

My husband was flirting with me the other morning. He got a little frisky and suggested we knock it out on our new island counter top. With that, he started to lift me up in a sexy move that we often see in the movies, and ten years ago would not have been a problem for either one of us. I would just like to say at this point that my husband is a strapping man; he is not clumsy and he’s had a lot of experience. He could not, however lift me up. “Gah!” he exclaimed, and started laughing.
“You think it’s funny?” I ask, annoyed and amused all at once, making him laugh even harder. Needless to say, we did NOT ‘knock it out.’
To make matters worse, in his attempt to lift me, my ass hit the corner of the counter, producing a bruise that looks a little bit like Italy, but bigger. Since we wont be ‘knocking it out’ for at least two weeks after his little laughing stint, there is no need for me to ice it.
Sex is a little discussed topic in the fat world. I read all sorts of articles in women’s magazines about how to turn your man on, how to keep things spicy, how to achieve more from less. Whatever that means. But upon doing a Google search for sex when you are fat, I found only one somewhat scientific article. You can see it at www.dimensionsmagazine.com These were some of the goodies from that article and I have CAPITALIZED the area I found most delightful:


When the woman is fat, Abraham Friedman recommends that she lie on her back, "her legs bent at the hips, her thighs open as wide as possible, and her knees fully bent, thus completely exposing her vulva and vagina." IF SHE HAS A BIG TUMMY, SHE CAN LIFT IT AWAY FROM HER PUBIC REGION WITH BOTH HANDS, at least until the man gets himself positioned between her thighs. If penetration is still difficult, it can help to put one or more pillows under her buttocks. "Considerable variety is available to you through the simple expediency of changing the position of your legs," writes Marvin Grosswirth. "If you use a pillow, your vagina becomes elevated and entry is easier. If you use two pillows, entry will not only be easy, it will be different. If you raise your legs to a certain height, the angle of penetration and the points of friction will be different than if you raise your legs to another height, or if you do not raise them at all. You would be amazed at the variations three inches up or down can create."

Note that it says BOTH hands. Now, I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a real mood killer to me. I imagine it goes like this… “honey, do want me to move the fat, or do you want to do it?” Is it part of foreplay, or is it just preparation?

I have personally found that face down ass up works the best. That way ‘if she has a fat tummy’ the fat is not seen. To keep the fat from flapping around down under while in this position, shove a pillow under your tummy. Make sure there is one candle lit in the furthest corner of the room. Wear a cover up on top, and get under the blankets. Then let all hell break loose. He is damn lucky to get anything is my attitude.

The good news is, BTM really does understand. He has recently just lost 45 pounds himself, and is very encouraging and understanding. I would just like to add at this point, you should have seen our escapades when we were both fat. Now that was something. There is no article out there that could have described that.

Sugar Withdrawal

I fell again today. My hair distracted me, and I tripped over a car seat that was in the middle of my driveway. Let me explain.
I am on day three of this lifestyle change. (not a diet) It occurs to me that I may be having some sort of sugar and carbohydrate withdrawal symptoms. Is it possible? According to studies done at Princeton University, there is such a thing. At least in Rats. So my symptoms include lack of ambition, lack of energy, and general disorientation and clumsiness. I find myself dropping almost everything, bumping into walls, and now, finally, the trip.
Let me backtrack a little bit. The little guy was sick last weekend. As we were on our way to the dog park he announced he was going to throw up. But if you have kids, you know that by the time they announce it they are already in the process of head turning exorcism. I've also noticed that they throw up 3 times their body weight. So home we went, and when we got there, I took out the child seat, setting it in the driveway to be hosed off. That was Sunday. It is now Wednesday, and I guess I keep hoping for the Vomit Fairy to come clean it up, because heaven forbid I should get the gagger (also known as btm) or my oldest son to clean it. So, there it has sat.
Well, this morning, as I am running out the door to get the little guy to school, my hair, which I left down, (I rarely leave it down) whipped around my face in the wind. I tossed my head back to get it out of my eyes, and when I did that, I felt my neck spasm. When my neck spasmed, I instantly and instinctively turned it in the opposite direction. All this in the blink of an eye, and all why I was still walking. So in the course of this, there was the car seat, and my toe caught it, and I propelled forward in a midair spin that I was sort of impressed by for a fleeting second. I laid there with my eyes closed for a moment before looking up to see the little guy standing over me in horrified silence. I tried to be reassuring when I called out to him "I'm okay, honey!" He refused to meet my eyes, but instead was looking at the amazing amount of 'stuff' that had flown out of my hands and purse. As I lay there, still not getting up, he silently walked around the car to get the can of soda that was still making its way down the driveway. I sat up and looked around at my neighbors’ windows to see if they had been witness to the incident. I was sure my across the street neighbor had seen me, as I know she is prone to standing in her upstairs window spying on the rest of us with her binoculars.
Cautiously I stood up and gimped around picking up my 'stuff.' I managed to walk around the car and help the little guy get in. He still had not said anything to me, but was instead casting long wary looks at me; I think inwardly hoping I would not cause any more embarrassing scenes.
I absolutely refused to dwell on the fall, and instead got busy thinking about how I would reward myself for surviving it. I decide the best option was to go get a pedicure. I called the nail salon, and they told me it would be half an hour. Since I was blowing off the gym one more day, (what’s one more day?) I congratulated myself for thinking how productive I would be in that half hour by going to get my car washed. I despise going to the car washes where you have to sit for an hour and do nothing but wait until the guys finish my car, so instead I decided to go to the do it yourself place. All was going fine until I had to use the bathroom. I really had to go and I hurried down the hallway of the service area only to discover that the girls’ bathroom was closed. I was running out of time. I needed the bathroom and I needed to be on time for my pedi. I looked over my shoulder and saw the mens bathroom. Hmmm. I know it can be a scary place. Did it have stalls, or just icky urinals? Was it clean? I didn't care anymore, and I pushed the door open and was relieved to see stalls with doors on them. I chose the bigger stall with the assist bar in it, as I was going to use the bar as a brace to hold myself up. I was not going to sit down, even with that tissue paper disposable 'sanitary-keep-a-barrier-between-my-ass-and-the-bacteria' thing. So as I squatted over the bowl, using the assist bar as a brace, I started going. Whew! Ok, are you ready for this? You know how men in bathrooms are less than sanitary? Well…I don’t know why these things happen to me, but the next thing I knew, my foot had slipped out from under me because there was a puddle of urine all around the bottom of the toilet and somehow I had overlooked it. My ass fell right down onto the rim that had God only knew what on it. EEEWWWW. I couldn’t jump up, because I was in midstream. I didn't want to push back up onto the bar, because my feet were now scrambling to get out of the puddle that I wish I had seen before I went...
Anyway, my theory is that I am having sugar withdrawal symptoms, thus the poor powers of observation, the lack of co-ordination, the shaking hands…At least I have someone to back me up on my theory.
Thank You Princeton University and your studies.

Retail Secrets, Diet Pills and Day One

Total goal weight to lose: 50 pounds Lost to date: 0

Are you aware that Target has already displayed their swimsuit line? For those of you paying attention…it is JANUARY. I am convinced (after giving it quite a lot of thought) that it is a marketing ploy in order to raise sales. Follow me here;
Target knows that we have all made resolutions to lose weight, get fit, get healthy, whatever. Target also knows that many of us women will go buy clothes smaller than we can fit into for ‘inspiration.’ So, we go buy these swimsuits swearing that by swim season we WILL fit into it. Only to find out, when swim season comes around (and I am speaking for the majority)that we DO NOT fit into said swimsuit. We question our sanity one more time, then go back to Target to purchase a new suit that fits. Having lost or filed the original receipt from the suit purchased in January, we simply just spend the extra money and call the whole thing a wash. Target is Brilliant!
The dieting industry is huge. We are inundated by ads that promise quick results, or ads that offer exercise equipment that will magically and easily burn fat right off your ass. I have researched and tried a great many of them, spending thousands for results that I did not achieve.
Diet pills are not for me. There are over the counter, famous oldies, like Dexatrim, and new ones like Thermlean and Venom Hyperdrive. There are prescription diet pills in varying doses that I do not qualify for, my pharmacist informing me of the potential side effects such as death if taken with the current medication I am on.
The FDA has recently released the former prescription Orlistat on the over the counter market, also know as Alli. Taking this in combination with fatty foods will have you running to the bathroom with the trots!
We are then given ‘program choices,’ all of which work if you are diligent enough to stay with them. You got Nutrisystem, Jenny Craig, And Lindora. Medifast, The Cookie Diet, ands South Beach, not forgetting the make-your-breath-foul Atkins. Foregoing good tasting foods for prepackaged processed cardboard-like yummies was all the rage for the last couple of years. Gaining ground on these ‘diets’ is the really incredible, change your lifestyle weight watchers, which encourages you to eat real foods within reason, teaching you not overindulge, but not denying you the foods you love and crave.
If you need help staying on a good eating regime, there are 12 step programs which help you to check in with others and realize why you eat for emotional comfort. HOW and Overeaters Anonymous have helped thousands shed pounds and keep them off, all while balancing your emotional and spiritual psyches.
Oh yes, the choices are limitless, and I am exhausted. That is why I hired a nutritionist. A pro. Someone who can tell me what foods work with my body, and will teach me how to eat. I am not looking forward to it, but I am looking forward to the results. I am on my own move-more-eat-less-crap lifestyle changing regiment that I hope will result in in a new, svelte mind and body combination.
Thanks for the show of support , the loving lectures, the recipes, and the open forum that has been created by you all.
In the name of not setting myself up for disappointment, I will NOT be buying a swimsuit before it is time. I have however started my eating plan today. Wish me luck and willpower.

The Last Hoorah

My husband, who is better than me at everything (and if you don’t believe me, ask him) made an announcement this morning. He looked at me and said, “I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but I didn’t gain one pound over the holiday season.” He announced this as he was eating a bite of chocolate. The ensuing conversation went like this;
“Really?” (I asked)
“Yep.” (he is extremely pleased with himself)
“Can you hand me the ice cream? (I figured why the hell not)
I mean, what was he expecting? Was I supposed to jump up and down and cheerlead his non weight gaining victory while he knew very clearly I am about to embark on a 50 pound weight loss journey? Yeah, okay. That’s why he said he knew I didn’t want to hear it.
So I have done what every other well intentioned dieter has done before me. I have set forth to getting rid of all the food in the house that I consider to be non diet. How am I doing this you ask? Well, I am on the last Hoorah. I am cleaning house and eating it too. Yessir. It will all be gone and done with by Tuesday, for this is the big day that I have dubbed the beginning. Day one. Only 3 more days to go.
As I set out on my venture, I am riddled with well wishes and advice. I love the open forum that blogging has opened for me. I have gotten recipes and tips for staying on track…exactly what I was hoping for. I have also gotten some small lectures in the way of ‘quit making excuses and know that it is hard for all of us’ in a buck-up, well meaning sort of way, as well as ‘you should try jazzercise’ from a long time friend just recently reconnected.
It’s the final countdown, and as much as the days of old shall be missed, I am cautiously moving into the new year with dim hope that somehow life in 2009 will be different. That friend I mentioned before…the jazzercise enthusiast, shared with me that she is living her bliss after having carefully orchestrated a plan and carrying it out to it’s fulfillment. That sounds simple enough, right? Now if I can just get out of my own way….

Contemplation

I got up this morning and made myself a cup of coffee. I put it down somewhere and now I can’t find it. Instead of looking for it I just made myself another cup. It will show up.
I am back from ‘vacation,’ and one more time I am overwhelmed by the amount of work it takes to get a family from one location to the next. There is a sea of equipment, clothes, food and trash to sort through and put away. The best part is btm brought it all in and put it on the living room floor and promised he would help me sort through it tomorrow. Well, its tomorrow and btm is sick in bed and wants me to take care of him. My teenager can’t be counted on, and the four year old just wants to play.
But more than that, the house has limited food choices. I ran out last night for milk and juice, and I meant for it to be a quick trip to the market. All of a sudden, I found myself alone for the first time in a week, and I slowed down to relish that moment. As I walked through the market, I realized that my eating frenzy was coming to an end. This year I have committed to changing my lifestyle. I’m on the move more eat less plan. I know it is the right thing to do. I know I will feel better, and I know I will look better.
Still, as I walked slowly through the aisles, I felt sad. No more popcorn, chips, pretzels. No more candy, brownies, doughnuts, ice cream. No more bread or sandwiches. No pizza, rice or generally things I love.
How am I possibly going to give all this up?
Am I sure I am at that place where looking good and feeling healthy outweighs the comfort I get from food? Or am I just comfortable enough to be okay with how I look? I am married, with kids, and I don’t need to impress anybody, so what’s the big deal?
My ramblings come to a screeching halt as I glimpsed the cover of a magazine. There in front of me were 3 women on the cover; all of them had lost half their body weight! I looked around to see who was watching me before I hurried the magazine off the shelf and into my cart. I was done shopping. I wanted to get home to read the article that accompanied the pictures to be inspired. I suddenly wanted that lifestyle change they had. I wanted to see before and after shots. I wanted what they had!
I could hardly wait when I got home to read that magazine. I went through the motions of getting dinner, putting the family down for the night, and when it was done, I grabbed that magazine and sat down and opened the pages, ready for the life changing moment when I found the answer. The lightning bolt. The burning bush. The come to Jesus. The psychic change. The light bulb.
What I read instead was what I already knew. A life change was imminent. I don’t know what I was hoping for, but I realized there is no easy way. I wasn’t going to smoke speed for weight loss, so having ruled that out, I realize that when the chaos of this holiday is over, I will need to put myself first. I will need to start that life change. Walk through the fear of sacrifice and entitlement and come out the other end a new and improved person. I need to quit wishing and get into action.
I know now what I have to do! I need to buy new work out clothes for the gym!

The Good, The Bad, and the Oh So Ugly

When I was a kid, I used to love to ski. I felt happy, joyous and free in the sun and cold, and the rush I got made me believe that God was breathing life into my soul.
I’ve been trying to grasp onto that feeling every run I go on here. It seems just out of my reach as self-obsession creeps to the surface and my focus isn’t on feeling anything other than calf pain.
Anyway, I start getting into a little groove, relaxing a little more and looking around. The guys seem so young, and the ladies are soooo fashionable. Snow bunnies abound. I was sort of hoping I would get inspired by being around these women who are so unbelievably put together. Instead, I find myself just wanting to go back to my room for a cookie. Whatever. I push those feelings aside and go for another run.
I should note here, that a typical run for me is an intermediate run. I’m not a beginner, but I am out of shape and I don’t want to work too hard. You should also know that I do not fall. I’m not bragging, but I have been doing this for awhile. If I fall, I’ve had a bad day. I am also so out of shape, that I find I have to stop every couple hundred yards to catch my breath and rest my legs.
It was on one of these rest stops that it happened. I rested, gasping for breath, not able to soak in the nature around me, but rather just focused on my legs to make sure I hadn’t pulled a muscle. All was good, and I pushed off to continue on. I don’t know what happened next, but I can tell you as I pushed off, my arms flailed, my skis crossed, and down I went. My shoulder hit first, then a faceplant, then a roll. I am sure I howled, because when I stopped, a voice called over to me, “Are you alright?”
As I looked up, a beautiful blond woman made her way over to me. Embarrassed, I assured her I was fine, and started to get up. Here comes the really bad. I couldn’t get up. I tried every trick I knew. I pole planted, I faced my skis up the hill, I flipped over to my ‘good’ side, all the while being encouraged by the beauty. I was just too heavy and weak at the same time. Finally, she offered me her pole, and humiliated, I had her pull me up. I mumbled a thank you, and she gave me a few tips to get down the mountain. I hurried down to a stunned btm husband who asked if I was okay.
So now I am down the hill and waiting in the chair lift line with btm. The line had thinned out and there were only a few single people looking to go up. One of them was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. A super model. I just knew she was riding up with me. Are you ready for the Ugly? As I sat quietly next to her, nursing my hurt feelings from the fall, I glanced sideways at supermodel. With great happiness, I noticed she had forgotten to have her lip waxed before her vacation. I called it a day. It just doesn’t get better than that.